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Twenty-Eight: In Proximity

Having watched, the second time, those beastly, barbaric siblings do hanky panky left an even worse taste in my mouth than the first time. I received an answer to my question on the house staff's opinion. The same cat to serve the refreshments told me that she got brassed off about their solutions to their haggles long ago. At night, I take my frustration out on thugs expecting to rob me, if not an aristo, mere steps behind. Soon, I will let the mercs come to me. Soon.

Late this night, I sit next to a chimney on a metal roof, clad in my blue suit, but without my mask. I present my hand to Michi, who perches on my arm. I watch him devour orts of meat, slivers of potato, and a roll. He has worked hard enough for me to owe him. He is as aware of the faction battles as I am. I can never tell how well he finds sustenance, but I expect him to find a corpse anywhere. My friend has led me to every destination that I set. In return, he gets to ravage a criminal that I slay. Such is the way of the Reaper.

My focus does not deviate from my raven friend. I wonder what he thinks of my mission. If only he could tell me whether to seek and free the High Priestess and the kittens from Giffard's men, things would be much easier. Alas, that is merely wishful thinking. I can only attempt to make out the indications from him cocking his head. I stroke his crown of feathers, to which he closes his eyes. When I stop, he looks up at me. He just knows what vexes me at the moment, but he has no way of communicating bar cawing. He caws once, as if to indicate such. I whisper, "Michibiku... kimi wa todokachi... I cannot thank you enough for getting me everywhere in this city. But I still wonder if I was worthy of your company and assistance." He answers with a shrill caw, as if to call me an idiot. I have learnt the art of humility long ago, but he might consider me too humble. I say lowly, "Death shows appreciation to loyal aides, but I find that I can do more for that. I just know not how." He caws in the same tone. I trust this raven with my life, and he has never objected to my plans.

In the morning, I find that the landlord of the building where I sojourn has a message. I read it whilst I eat my breakfast. The note is from Nadine. That was fast. She wrote on the page an address, followed by: "Lady Terrecon would be chuffed to see you." She needed not add that she is sarcastic. Now, I have to think that Nadine diddled the cat into permitting an appointment.

After I have eaten, and Michi is pecking at the orts, I refer to the borough map to find that Terrecon Manor is on the same street as Lowell Manor. Is that street popular among the wealthy? I would find that out today, after lunch. I am not drinking whatever tea she will possibly offer me.

I begin my daily exploration by seeking the two known factories of Knightsedge. Along the way, I find brawls on the sidewalks. Thankfully, those are not among Jack's men and Giffard's mercenaries. Muggers are not my current priority. They will face me only if they want me as their next victim. I examine the block of a two-building factory, which was once owned by a brewing company. It went bankrupt when the city seized its funds on account of the numerous safety violations. As it turns out, Nadine's signature is on the deed to this property. After a thorough examination of the brick exterior, on which I write notes, I move on.

The second factory in Knightsedge that Nadine owns is like a barn made of metal, the roof glass. According to city records, the city claimed the property after the citywide workers' strike. Only after stricter policies for working conditions came to pass, Nadine bought it. Based on what people who regularly pass this place, the foreman follows the old ways, abusing the workers and endorsing child labour. This place looks easier to infiltrate unless one enters from the back.

"Ahoy", Jack says.

"'Tis Death", I whisper.

Jack asked joyously, "Require any new bits an' bobs?"

I inform him, "It is I who will relay information this time, Chap."

He quips, "So, yeh're the raven to my Reaper?"

It is barely noon when I have made the notes valuable to the white fox. I explain, "The two factories in Knightsedge of the Lowell House's possession. The larger one, formerly the home of Vervain Brewers, has more security on the inside. There are three openings for entrance. The alarm bell on the ground level is between its two buildings. Watch for the rifleman on the platform outside the second floor.

"The second factory, formerly Lilia Tailoring Company, expects company from the backdoor, but a direct approach is suicide. The roof has an opening, and both sides have one open window. Be careful to not allow the guards to alert reinforcements."

Pause.

Jack says wryly, "You trust me to claim those properties." Another pause. "You are aware that your chances are in my hands."

I parry, "Jack, I want you to win the gang war. In order to do so, however"-

He interrupts, "I know, Death."

"I had t-check the line t-make sure that the Lowell House does not monitor this telephone. I still advise caution; I would hate t-see you having lost your only other gorgeous eye."

Jack chuckles, "Don' give Giffard's men any ideas."

I correct him. "Nadine's men."

"If yeh be correct about her having more power, a loss on 'er end makes the victory more savoury."

"Best of Symphon, Seàn", I say tenderly.

I imagine him blushing at that. He responds lowly, "Cheers, Death."

As I would need wait for the outcome in Jack's endeavours, I will first see my next confrontation through. Along the way to the street of manors, I mentally conjure a strategy of approach. My estimate of Lucia's age is forty-five. Aggressive as David suggested in his letter, she has not had military-level training like I. Regardless, she is one kind of person that I despise. She has no justification for how she treated David as a kitten.

Like the Lowell Manor, Terrecon Manor has three marble units with a brick pattern, a balcony in the centre on the upper floor, and metal one-piece roofs. However, in stark contrast, the stone has been stained black with ash to add to the few dents. I knock on the scratched wooden door, and wait. After a short while, I knock again. I am about to try a third time when the door opens. Standing at the shoddy threshold is a smoke-grey Shorthair clad in a mauve pinstripe, long-sleeve, button-down dress, the shoulders heavily padded, the long skirt wide enough to act as coverage provided by a tarpaulin sheet. Her eyes are dull yellow, and she stands at a metre-and-a-half.

She says bluntly, "It is you. I care not why _Lady_Lowell, of oll people, would persist in my permission fer you to enter my house, but I assume that you would deny my refusal, as well."

At least she acknowledged me. I reply sarcastically, "Good show t-you, too, Lady Langdon. Or will you soon go back to being Lady Terrecon?"

She steps aside, responding, "We can tolk about that when you enter." I do so.

The main hall is worse for wear. I look down at the black and white porcelain tiles, which I can swear are sticky. In addition, a stench assaults my nose. The chamber is dimly lit, as if the lights have not been replaced. I look around, making out the sheet of dust over the railing of the stairs in the centre. I check out the left side of the chamber. From the doorway at the end, I make out what should be a division for a museum, based on suits of armour against the wall. The cat speaks up, "Better that we do not converse in there." That statement baffles me, for I expect her to challenge me to a duel to the death. She wears no armour, and I doubt that her article of aristocratic clothing would enable her to conceal a knife or move like I have adjusted to masculine business wear. Not once have I worn a ball gown.

The cat gestures the direction to take. So, I tread the stairs, and head right, to the north wing. The first door on that side is to the library, as vast as that of Lowell Manor. Like the main hall of this house, the chamber is shabby. The windows are covered with curtains having gathered cobwebs. Just opposite the doorway is a harpsichord, which I wager has collected too much dust and built up too much grime to still hold a tune. Though the bookshelves are reasonably maintained, the books themselves look as if they have not been touched in weeks. Even the intricately patterned couch and two chairs are coated in clouds of dust. I comment, "This is depressing."

The Shorthair replies coldly, "You know nothing." I dare not question whether she walked or ran. She adds, "But I know now that Nadine fibbed, and why. How many one-eyed she-wolves with black pelts live in Highcond?" Lucia has been expecting this, but so have I. She continues, "Shortly after Solmil Journal published that letter and your interview, the information found its way here. The journalists harassed me time after time. I became the laughingstock of Knightsedge, given the gossip about the way Garret and I raised our son and daughter."

I inquire, "And where stand Lord and Lady Lowell on the topic?"

The cat scoffs. "Why them? They do not hide how they treat each other." Pause. "They are right to believe the papers."

With her back facing me, I orate, a finger raised, "I believed David's letter: every word of it. You were wrong about whot you did to your son. Nobody deserves the right to attack their own cubs. I would know such an act; I lived next to a wolf cub who would face assault from his father for no reason. He wos my only friend, and his father took him from me."

Lucia turns, glaring. "You are not here for a job."

I approach, scowling. "The fact that David was left-handed and your method to teach him to use his right hand took away a part of who he was. Unlike you, my mother and step-father had no objections to me writing left-handed. Your daughter is at fault, as well. She was so inexcusably petty about you wanting a man to run Terrecon House that she made his days living bloody hell. Where were you when she committed such acts? Where wos the discipline? And where did Lord Langdon stand?"

Lucia turns all the way around and approaches, growling. She answers, "My husband had no objections to David's discipline. He wos also never home on time for supper."

"Is your relationship with him needless t-say?"

"Not needless. Garret and I hated each other, but we wed fer the sake of breeding our successors. It wos a business deal. Even now, marriages are arranged as business deals. By uniting our houses, we united our monopolies on stocks. I own a mining company, and Garret owns research laboratories. I cared not that he would rarely be home, and neither did my daughter or the house staff. I cared not that he sated his lust through women of the night."

"And you knew nothing David would say about you or your husband?" Pause. So, that was it. "Did David ask where his father wos? Did he not seek his father's guidance?" In the split second I see her tail as it thrashes, I note its fur raised. I bend my ears to the sides. "David wos oblivious to his father's doings, but he would 'ave considered them petty."

Lucia growls, "You know nothing about Garret or me. You know nothing about my daughter, either."

Arms folded, I object, "I know enough, thanks to David. If he lived long enough ta tell me of his fucked-up cubhood himself, I would 'ave sympathised with 'im. David smoked an hallucinogen to face his demon, which wos you. I wos not the one ta drive him to his demise; it wos you. He gave up the fight when I thought that I could offer 'im a man that might understand him. You can blame me or your husband oll you want, but neither he nor I were the ones to abuse yer son an' drive him out of Knightsedge."

Lucia dashes toward me, hissing. She throws a sloppy hook, but I back up, not dropping my arms. I back up another step, avoiding the same kind of blow. I let her anger get to her as I merely dodge every punch and kick. I need only step backwards or aside, and I still have my arms folded. As musing as the thought is, I dare not say it.

Lady Langdon only proves what I consider her: a sloppy bitch with no bottle. My stoic, bored expression comes off to her as a taunt, not wavering, and further irritating her. So, be it.

I catch her fist and hold it in a vice-like grip. She punches with her other hand, only for me to catch it as well. I say plainly, "I would stop before embarrassing myself." Lucia snarls and bites at me, to no avail. She tries that again, denying that I am out of her range, even when her opponent is leaning forward. Some Lady.

I release her left hand, to swiftly dash aside, her arm in hand. I stand behind her, twisting her arm, making her screech. I hold her wrist as tightly and keep my right hand on her shoulder. I state, "I hold back for a reason, Lucia."

She spits, "That is Lady Langdon t-you!"

"A general and a private could fight one another and ranks would make no difference. If I hold back just a little less, the circumstances will get worse."

The cat hisses and tries to stamp my foot, only to miss. Desperation costs coordination. Just with a turn of her head, I know what she intends next. So, I release my grip on her. She stumbles when I do so. I merely await her next move as she pants and rolls her shoulder. I am patient with her, but even that is wearing.

She lunges toward me, only for me to lean again, and stop her with one hand. I speak, "Be glad that no reporter can see this." I have seen this sloppy fighting from abusers in the past; Lady Langdon is cub's play. I move aside a fraction of a second before releasing her, making her stumble again. I allow her to swing her sloppy punches and miss, before I sweep her leg. She thuds with a loud groan. My eyes roll at how she plays the victim. I orate, "What know you of the logic that a misdeed leads to an eventual personal calamity? I am not to blame for that. Neither is your son. You cannot blame me, David, or anybody else for a scandal that sullied your legacy."

Lucia gets up from the floor, sweeping her dress with her hands. She then speaks up, "You got what y-wanted, Wolf"-

I interrupt, "Whot I wanted of you, was to understand David's life choices and how he felt about you. If you know that now, acknowledge it." I may need to punch her sorry face to make that happen.

"I regret something. This house 'as seen too many servants to count. Now I know why so many from when David and Patricia were kittens quit." I remain stern. She could be only feigning lament. She continues, "Our last servant resigned, and Garret and I have given up on finding a new one. We still hope to retain our businesses, but we need successors."

"Then look for successors, somebody with interest in whot your companies offer. Staying in here will also solve nothing. If you truly wish to change your image, cease the accusations and start showing respect to those from whom you want respect."

Lucia states, her back turned, "Patricia's married now, and wants involvement in 'er husband's tycoon. I would not know how far along she is."

I dash toward her, and then pick her up by the throat. I need not hold back to lift her far above the floor. I growl, "As narrow-minded as ever. I came merely t-give you closure on David, and you deny it."

She says desperately, "You cannot rush me into changing my ways."

"If you will act out of spite, direct it at the Lowell House. Their monopolies are exposed now. If you want them out of your life, bet against their stocks."

"I already 'ave that intention! I need only the money!" I drop her, making another thud. She coughs dryly. After catching her breath, she states, "I have money, but not much. Mercs would never follow an aristo low on money."

"They will follow somebody who hates Giffard." I stride past her. She has the energy to catch up with me, to stop me from leaving, but she is the one holding back this time. I do hear her running after me when I am at the bottom of the stairs, but she says nothing. She would have stopped me from leaving through the front door if she wanted the fight to continue. My fight is not with her.

A servant sees me inside the polished marble manor. When I enter, she nudges me. So, I get on one knee. That cat, a white Shorthair with a large black spot over her crown and her left ear, whispers in my ear. This is the same cat to have noticed that I listened to the siblings fucking. She humours me, letting me know that they are at it again, probably to spite them.

I ruffle her crown, and then walk past her. I head directly to the stairs and to the master bedroom. Watching them this time would compromise me. However, I can gather the context by listening outside the door. I lean against the door, arms folded. I hear creaking of the boards and grunting. Giffard takes the occasional break from his grunts as if he has forgotten to breathe. Nadine comes off as silent, just breathing, as if she is bored of her brother.

Perhaps I hope to find some change in their routine. By an equal chance, I am disappointed that their progression has no deviation. Just Giffard grunting and Nadine breathing. To my astonishment, the sound of shrill ringing causes the redirection. Then, there is growling, followed by a mutter. The ringing is cut off when I hear Giffard orate, "This had better be of great importance." Pause. That is followed by Giffard snarling, "You killed Horace?! Do you not realise that you 'ave nobody to explain the situation to our clients?!" The next pause is barely a second. "Hang your military comparisons and come up with a fucking solution, yeh thick bellend!" How ironic. "Whot d-you mean"- I hear two steps as he pauses in speech. Then, his claws tap repeatedly upon the floorboards as he adds, "Never mind. No matter whot happens, keep the weapons safe. Bring oll mercs to Ignisater Pillars if yeh must. If the bitch bear, snippy hyaena, and smug badger will use their own guns ta claim our merchandise, let them fight fer it amongst each other if they don' go after us! Let nobody in the district but our men!" He is quiet for only a second. "Good. I will ensure additional help, as well. Farewell, fer now, Hyatt." He hangs up. He is quiet, but I hear some kind of rummaging, followed by scraping of a dial. Two telephones in the same chamber?

Nadine asks, "Whot are you doing?"

Giffard refuses to answer that as suddenly someone on the line answers. Giffard says plainly, "Lieven, I 'ave a job fer you. I believe it will be really bloody." He lets that sink in. "Y-make quite the enforcer, but Hyatt will need you more than I."

I need hear no more. I move away from what cuts me off from Giffard and Nadine, and walk down the stairs. Where I head next, is the study. Giffard would hate to see me with Nadine. She would want to spite him further, but I need her alone.

I care not that Nadine has followed me to Tailford Inn, to know where I sojourn. All that I needed inform her was that I wanted to see her, and away from Giffard, which I wrote on a page in her study. In a hurry, I lifted a few scones from yesterday. How can I know that she will not attempt now to torture me herself?

At the time that I requested, she is at the doorway of the room where I stay. I drag the green-eyed white she-wolf clad in a frilly, red pinstripe dress, by the wrist and then slammed the door.

Nadine asks, "Is that any way to greet a lady?"

"I confronted Lucia."

Gobsmacked, she presses, "You left an urgent message to tell me that yeh challenged the bint?"

"She got a right temper, but she wos no match fer me. I proposed a tes' ta see if people kin change."

Nadine says sternly, "Yeh wanted me fer more than that." I close in on her, taking her hands in mine. Seeing what I get at, she asks, "Will y-never put the charade at an end?"

I make a point. "I 'ave visited brothels t-sate my lust during my heat cycles." I go on before she can comment. "Almost oll times, I relied on the women, and looked fer brothels that were not used as fronts for drug operations. I 'ave had men join in, and made sure that they never plant their seed. Only a man that I love will 'ave my permission fer that. Men such as Giffard are the reason I am not so credulous of men. It wos a woman, my first love, to whom I lost my virginity, and I am unashamed of it."

Nadine objects, "I could never have intercourse with a woman, let alone one that I have not known long."

I bring her close enough for us to press against one another with reproach. "A vow to never do something, is bound to be broken." I lean to her, to kiss her lips. Try as she might to pull away, she fails.

When I break the kiss, she barks, "Behave yerself, Vivian!"

"I requested to show you how a woman makes love. This is yer chance."

"You mean your chance, you obstreperous bitch!"

I drive her against the wall, kissing her again, to which she continues her attempt at resistance. Nadine has her hands on my shoulders, pushing me. I swiftly let her go, making her stumble to the floor. I state, "I intend not ta rape you; I am not like that."

"Yeh'll only make Giffard want to kill me."

"He will not. He needs you."

"Whot's in it fer you?"

I present my left hand, answering, "That, M-Lady, is a secret." She accepts my hand, and I get her up. I suggest, "Perhaps other gestures would arouse you." I unbutton my blazer, and then my shirt. I place them at the edge of the bed, and then undo my corset, my back to Nadine. Upon setting the corset at the edge of the bed, I turn around, revealing the shape of my breasts. I take her hands. Her mouth agape at the sight of them, she does not struggle. I place her hands over where my nips are. I turn her arms slightly, guiding her.

She closes her maw and swallows. You must be enjoying this already, Nadine. I press my body against hers again, this time to unfasten the laces on the back of her dress. I widen the opening, to make it fall to the floor, which it does when I back up and she takes her hands off of my breasts. I then untie the lace of her undergarment gown.

Nadine is more unlike her brother in appearance than I thought. I find licks of brown and grey in her white pelt, below her breasts, at her collarbone, and aligned with her hips. I guide her hands again, this time to my waist, to undo my pants. I kiss her, this time unmet with resistance, and I massage her breasts. I thought you would give in, Nadine.

I break the kiss and let her go, to lower my pants and underpants to the floor. I was already barefoot. I lead her to the bed, where I pull the sheets away. I lay her on her back. I pin her with my body, and keep her wrists in my hands as I nuzzle her neck, taking in her scent. I nuzzle between her ample cleavage. Her breasts are the size that one would expect of a wolf; her thick pelt makes them look bigger. I lick over each nipple, in which I pause at the reaction. A woman sprouted from venom-imbued soil, an influential woman scheming to claim the city, whining? She murmurs, "Don't stop." That amazes me further, but I continue with the plan. I massage her breasts again, and this time she locks my wrists in her hands. She wants this to never end, but the foreplay cannot go on forever.

I shift down, to take in the scent of her lust. I lick over the rim, and I pause at the same kind of sound. Nadine allows me to lick over her cunt and then inside it until I reach with the entire length of my tongue, the whole time Nadine moaning.

I take my time with the gesture, making sure that her reaction is genuine. Then, I lift myself. I place my left leg over her hip and align my cunt with hers. I rock slowly; no reaction. I keep up with this gesture until I hear a whimper. I look down, seeming to strike fear with my one visible eye. You continue to astonish me, Nadine. I keep with up, still going slowly and gently. Get her used to the action. She seems to follow that. I pick up the pace slightly, keeping each hand on her hips. She shows resistance, clinging to the side of the mattress. I rock even faster now, making Nadine moan and pant like I hear from a courtesan that I have pleasured in the past. As I rut against her, Nadine moans more frequently. Ecstasy must overcome her now. I keep rutting, as fast and hard as I can, the bed shaking with the actions. As I expect, I feel a flow--

Coming from her! Nadine has achieved orgasm, which I can also smell. The odour of her orgasm is different from what I expect, and not in a good way. Still, I go on, done with holding back. I let my juice spurt, and then I drop to the bed.

Nadine shifts to me, wrapping her arms around me. She asks, "D-you ever smoke after intercourse?"

Embracing her back, I answer, "I don' care fer baccy."

She smiles, and is quick to tell me what is on her mind. "This would send Giffard over the edge. Quite frankly, I find his outbursts comedic." I could have used that point to persuade her, but what is done, is done.

I inquire, "Would it be crueller to keep this affair a secret, or to tell 'im?"

"Good question", she whispers. Even right after an orgasm, she is cheeky.

"Here is a better question: whot secrets d-you keep from yer brother?"

"To start..." she flirts. Nadine shuffles closer, nestling to my chest. She cups and massages my left breast, and then kisses me. She backs up, grinning. "My financial management is no secret." I stroke up and down her back. Nadine continues, "I keep very few secrets from Giffard. He only denies almost everything that I tell him. My control of his mercs is what he refuses hardest to believe. Whot he knows not is the names of the men that I 'ave bedded during my heat cycles. Neither does he know my opinions of the men close to 'im."

I interrupt, "Which of those men stand out to you, bar Lieven?"

She nonchalantly answers, "Our racketeer, Hyatt Coombs. They've bin friends fer years, only to put that in peril. Hyatt used ta be a brigade captain, only to be discharged fer insubordination. His discipline became an issue, leading to 'im being marshalled fer assault on his soldiers."

"Does he still utilise the same disciplinary methods?"

"If he does, Giffard would have told me. He weaves several tales of how his fellow gangsters battle or assail. The vigilante did a favour, slaying Doctor Diefenbach. His stories of torture in Agnarge made me want to vomit."

The statement makes me assume that she never liked the sadistic bastard. I query, "Whot else know you of Hyatt?"

Nadine lowers and places her head on my shoulder, sighing. As she caresses my chest, she answers, "Just that he is following Giffard's supposedly secret orders. I wos there when Giffard issued an assignment to 'is barmy nark." I scowl in disappointment. Noting this, Nadine says, "Don't be so whingey after selling me on seducing women."

I look down. I may never have another chance to get to her whilst her guard is down. I pitch the bait. "Wherever Hyatt's work is, I recommend yeh trust 'im with stockpiling yer money."

She chuckles at that. It quickly ends as she looks up, finding that I am not shirty. She objects, "He would likely run away with whot money he is tasked ter 'ol up."

I comment, "Given 'is military training, I would not take 'im fer a meater."

"True. But he is getting old. He wos once wealthy, as well. Hyatt's lasted long enough ta lead the arms racketeering. Neither Giffard nor I question his integrity, but he is better with weapons than money."

I object, "But whot if yer manor cannot store enough money?"

Nadine sighs. "I still hate it. Hyatt is the top priority of the Snowfox Syndicate, our strongest rival." Of course he is. I would still prefer Jack controlling crime in Knightsedge to Giffard or Nadine. I say nothing, as much as I wish that I could ask about Lieven. So, Nadine continues, "Giffard olways hated me. He sees too much of our mother in me. He sees her in every woman, even those to whose purse he appealed." I scowl again. I know not who is worse, now that I listen to what Nadine has to say about her brother.

I ask, "Have yeh bin plannin' ta wrest control of the Lowell House?"

Nadine says, "I should thank the vigilante. With Giffard's people getting killed, his grip on crime has lessened. But it would also mean fewer people fer me t-command." Perhaps she wants me to kill Giffard, but she did not kill my mother and step-father.

I steer back to the topic. "I stand by the choice. If yeh're sceptic about it, what is yer ideer of a low budget?"

"Ten thousand quid. At best, that will cover resources fer a few machine guns. I will consider it." She does not even hesitate. Probably to spite Giffard even further.

I sigh before suggesting, "Yeh should go. I 'ave some thinkin' t-do meself."

Nadine replies, "If you say so, Vivian." She slowly gets up, not wanting the warmth of my body or the bed to go away. My next guess on her movements is that she deliberately stands with her back to me, giving me a good view of her soft arse and fluffy tail. I watch as her hips sway side-to-side while she walks. And yet, she was reluctant to accept my flirtations. She gets her clothes on, though slowly. Nadine must guess that I prefer women over men, and so makes sure that the images of her nude body imprint on my memory. At the open doorway, Nadine pauses and faces me. She states, "You gave me much to consider, as well, Vivian." I expect an additional statement, perhaps an opinion, but she just stares, as if she wonders why I wear the eyepatch.

A few minutes after she is out of the room, I head to the table, not bothering to get dressed, and hastily write on a page, a message to Jack.